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12. The Worst of Times

Written Tuesday, December 31, 2019 / Day 141 / Afternoon

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

If I did not know any better, I would think Charles Dickens was not only talking about London and Paris, the rich and the poor and the society of the day - but that he was also speaking about the state of grief.

On this final day of the calendar year of 2019 - I am struck at my worst of times that I now live in. The world that the observers see me in - and then retreat from it just as I used to do in my pre-grief life.

Because those of us now living in grief are frozen in time. The calendar keeps ticking away - the world and all of our closest relationships that we have are living out their patterns, their routines, their cycles.

While we live out our days in this truly inhospitable place.

Depending upon how long we have lived here - we have adapted somewhat. We had to.

There really was no other option for us.

Adapt to what actually?

To the emptiness of our world that is missing what made it our world.

To the relentless pattern of life that we must navigate in a hollow and superficial way.

To the connection that has now been disrupted. The link that has been severed. The connection to what really was our life.

To all these elements and more - we have endured. And endure we do. And to some degree adapted.

Recently I have had the realization that these worst of times have had free reign over me. I have been subjected to the worst of perhaps every emotion that I can identify. And beyond that - into a netherworld of awfulness that is beyond words.

This realization has prompted me to come up with a conclusion. A rather practical one when I look at it. The conclusion is very simple.

Stop it.

Yes, I said to grief and its friends - stop it. Just stop it.

That’s enough.

I continually reflect on the blessings I have amidst this place of grief - these worst of times.

They are numerous and comforting in their own way. They do not - have not - been able to stop the worst of times from being their absolute worst.

They can’t.

But I can.

So as the calendar changes to new numbers and words - I am also changing. Changing to reject the worst of times as they attempt to take me to their home.

I refuse to go there.

I had to find something that my wife was using today and opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom she was using because it has a nice walk-in shower. I opened the cabinet door and stared.

Here she was. Here are her things. Things she used. Things that were a part of her.

I began to gasp. I could see where I was heading. Then a thought hit me.

No.

No - I am not going to go there.

You things are not going to do this to me. I am not going to do this to me. What purpose does it serve - other than to make me sad?

So I told the worst of times to take a hike. I am done with this.

And so it will go. I have a resolve to face the worst of times as it comes to greet me. I have many encounters ahead of me. I have great barriers to overcome in life without my sweetie. Opening a door or drawer and seeing her things - is just too much for me right now.

I can feel the bottom falling out of the floor. A giant shaft of despair awaiting me if I choose to fall in there. But I will not go there willingly. If there are emotional roads to take that have to be taken for some unfathomable emotional reason then I will take them. But those unnecessary side-trips - I will not be taking those - if I have anything to do with it. I just won’t go there.

My prayer is that I will leave my winter of despair, my season of darkness. Leave them behind. That God will answer my continual prayer of turning my grief into strength. That is the season I long for.

The struggle then will continue.

I have recently completed putting these Essays on Grief on their own website. I pray that there is some comfort for others who are struggling like I am. I know I have found comfort in the testimonies of those living in their states of grief.

In completing this enterprise - I am finding a strange comfort. It is somewhat undefinable as so much in this world seems to be - but the comfort that I am detecting is hard to ignore - it appears to be very real.

So to the worst of times I say - I’ll be seeing you. No wait, I really do not want to see you at all.

I want to leave you. Leave you behind.

And venture towards the very humble beginnings of the better times that are ahead.

12. The Worst of Times

Written Tuesday, December 31, 2019 / Day 141 / Afternoon

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

If I did not know any better, I would think Charles Dickens was not only talking about London and Paris, the rich and the poor and the society of the day - but that he was also speaking about the state of grief.

On this final day of the calendar year of 2019 - I am struck at my worst of times that I now live in. The world that the observers see me in - and then retreat from it just as I used to do in my pre-grief life.

Because those of us now living in grief are frozen in time. The calendar keeps ticking away - the world and all of our closest relationships that we have are living out their patterns, their routines, their cycles.

While we live out our days in this truly inhospitable place.

Depending upon how long we have lived here - we have adapted somewhat. We had to.

There really was no other option for us.

Adapt to what actually?

To the emptiness of our world that is missing what made it our world.

To the relentless pattern of life that we must navigate in a hollow and superficial way.

To the connection that has now been disrupted. The link that has been severed. The connection to what really was our life.

To all these elements and more - we have endured. And endure we do. And to some degree adapted.

Recently I have had the realization that these worst of times have had free reign over me. I have been subjected to the worst of perhaps every emotion that I can identify. And beyond that - into a netherworld of awfulness that is beyond words.

This realization has prompted me to come up with a conclusion. A rather practical one when I look at it. The conclusion is very simple.

Stop it.

Yes, I said to grief and its friends - stop it. Just stop it.

That’s enough.

I continually reflect on the blessings I have amidst this place of grief - these worst of times.

They are numerous and comforting in their own way. They do not - have not - been able to stop the worst of times from being their absolute worst.

They can’t.

But I can.

So as the calendar changes to new numbers and words - I am also changing. Changing to reject the worst of times as they attempt to take me to their home.

I refuse to go there.

I had to find something that my wife was using today and opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom she was using because it has a nice walk-in shower. I opened the cabinet door and stared.

Here she was. Here are her things. Things she used. Things that were a part of her.

I began to gasp. I could see where I was heading. Then a thought hit me.

No.

No - I am not going to go there.

You things are not going to do this to me. I am not going to do this to me. What purpose does it serve - other than to make me sad?

So I told the worst of times to take a hike. I am done with this.

And so it will go. I have a resolve to face the worst of times as it comes to greet me. I have many encounters ahead of me. I have great barriers to overcome in life without my sweetie. Opening a door or drawer and seeing her things - is just too much for me right now.

My prayer is that I will leave my winter of despair, my season of darkness. Leave them behind. That God will answer my continual prayer of turning my grief into strength. That is the season I long for.

The struggle then will continue.

I have recently completed putting these Essays on Grief on their own website. I pray that there is some comfort for others who are struggling like I am. I know I have found comfort in the testimonies of those living in their states of grief.

In completing this enterprise - I am finding a strange comfort. It is somewhat undefinable as so much in this world seems to be - but the comfort that I am detecting is hard to ignore - it appears to be very real.

So to the worst of times I say - I’ll be seeing you. No wait, I really do not want to see you at all.

I want to leave you. Leave you behind.

And venture towards the very humble beginnings of the better times that are ahead.

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